(I would were I not subjunctively consumed
by the waste/waist such consumption is
the province of raMpaging male hippoi
between which and the water you had got
so as to camera the memes they are as grapes)
is there a dofline or is that wrong?
they stroke I hear they stroke then die
can that be right?
it feels strong like motherhood in a cave
is that right? image away the saccades of stroke?
then drift unfeeding away from everything
everything dust that inflates outwards
not a singular thing but things is not plural
as inflation everythings blows ups or out
from his mouth ivy and golden clouds
for there is no up
as of guilt look this is what I mean the meme thing
the breakdown what a cronk someone
long far way stretch was he called Alan or Alain
the spelling ludes it was far off in time again
you can know everything and still hate what it is
to be monstrous as that stuck hippo of gloom
of screen of sashay of youth of the room even
to to to to always approach with a rat in the mouth
shouting and wielding as you flood for this
is known to be scary as fuck and/so/even they will
indeed run at the mouth and the apparition
with ichor and fright at the very affright
or afreet in the well but that is a non-story
stuck in a lift with a killer on the zero floor
I was not but neither were you? (he wanted
to hold his wife.he murmured.he had forgotten.
she was dead.her voice across the straits.
the cannonades of human limbs.the grapeshot
that took the legs out of the Highlanders.
in spring they throw bread in the rivers
to raise the dead.he clutches at her.
his arms return raining with emptiness.
he looks in the mirror and wonders beetles.
who is that behind him?he opens the door
at midnight.something invisible slides in
past him.everything is now infected.love
goes bad and becomes a disease.sent using
BlackBerry® from Orangeyeah what) no you i
mean no you that's the damn thing—no you